Beautiful
by CARAcanFIGURE
Summary: Bella works in a bar, Edward just so happens to be a regular there. What happens when Bella gets the nerve to talk to him and he leaves her knee deep in whiplash? ExB, one shot, M for safety, no Beta. R&R!


A/N: Not my first fanfic, first one on this account. I've written on other websites as well, so please take due notice that I'm not a newbie, haha.

BxE one shot. That's not going to change. It has no plot to it, really. Just a bit of senseless writing that had to have its way out of my system. I'm not particularly a huge Twilight fan, but I do enjoy the couple...in the books. In the movies, their horrible. And, quite personally, I think Bella's stupid. I don't like her character.

Enough with that, lol.

All characters belong to Stephine Meyer. Just the 'plot' is mine.

Reviews are loved! I build on criticism. Get at me!

"_And all I say, doesn't matter anyway. I've given up, so call my bluff, 'cause I just need to be reminded, who I am, I'm falling apart."_

_-Falling Apart_

_Matt Nathanson_

It was the freedom of the bar that lured them in. It was the free drinks and topless women that they said drove them back every night. But it was a lie. It was always the feel of giddy misbehavior caressing their skin. It was always the tingling rush that filled their stomach. It had nothing to do with the heavy drinking or gorgeous dancing girls. It was always the exhilarating thrill that they could get caught at any second that kept them coming back.

There was that one peculiar man, however, that was there for no such thing. He seemed unaware of the bar at the back of the room, hardly seen through the haze of the smokey room. He didn't seem to notice the way the pulsing lights played on the tan skin of the blonde stripper center stage as she ground herself against the pole; coins and dollar bills raining down by her heel clad feet, her shaped legs drenched with the alcohol that had been thrown up on the stage. He didn't seem to smell the rusty scent of perspiration that fell off the drunken, grinding bodies on the dance floor before him. He didn't seem to notice the faint, but forever present, stench of stale beer and heaved stomach contents. The emerald eyes behind the thick, black rimmed glasses never strayed from the tiny, exhausted looking pale young woman that worked the tables here every night. He came for her, though no one but him knew it.

He was a regular here, but not in the way the other men were. He was forever out of place in the bar, his crisp black tux nothing less then perfection. His bronze locks seemed to be a casual disarry everywhere he went, though no one in the bar knew if he went to work with his hair like that. No one knew what he did, his black tux could stand for anything. Maybe the tux didn't have anything to do with his profession-which it didn't, but he would never tell them that. He was a gorgeous man, there were no other words to describe him. The blonde was grinding herself against the pole desperately in attempt to get his attention. He knew who she was. She had come to his office once asking for...work...to be done. She hadn't known that he wasn't a plastic surgeon. She just found out by chance that he was a doctor, she didn't know what kind. As he watched her out of the corner of his eye, he decided she had found the right doctor. Her breasts were certainly not that round the last time he saw her.

"Can I get you anything?" a voice cried in his ear over the pulsing music. His kissable lips curled up in a soft smile, leaving the blonde breathless. He had a gorgeous smile. He turned in his chair to look at the sweaty waitress before him, her pad and pen out.

"There's a bar at the back," he answered, just loud enough to hear.

"I know. I'm asking if you want anything _from _the bar in the back," she rolled her eyes and gave him an impatient look to hurry up. She winced as some drunk man stumbling by slapped her ass.

"I'm fine, thank you." He turned back around, smiling again to himself. There was a pause and then a tap on his shoulder. He turned again to see the same young woman standing there. She now had her hands on her hips, anger flashing in her doe brown eyes.

"Look, I see you here every night. Always the same but you never do _anything_. You just sit there and stare at the floor or the ceiling, never drinking, never watching Tanya fuck herself on that pole for you. Can't you tell that's what she wants you to do? Come up there on that stage and fuck her senseless in front of the rest of these men?"

"Its not my job nor my wish to do any such thing," he answered kindly, not looking her dead in the eye. Tanya had a nice body, but God knew what diseases she carried in that pussy of hers. It was a place he wasn't willing to go.

"Then what the fuck are you here for?"

"Nothing."

She stared at him, "Nothing? What, don't have a good enough job to keep yourself busy? I figured that tux was phony. So, where do you work, then? If you feel like you can't come to a fucking bar in your work clothes? I'm pretty sure I saw a mail man out there getting it on with some red head."

"I'm a doctor."

"Oh."

He smirked at her response. She rubbed the back of her neck and looked away from him, embarrassed.

She was quite gorgeous, even with her hair a disgusting mess. Sweat ran down the side of her face, sticking the thick, curling, chocolate brown locks to the side of her slim neck. She had large doe brown eyes. Her tiny, pink mouth had a way of letting out the most adorable words he had heard, even when every other word was a curse. She was stunning.

"Is there anything you do? Besides work at a bar every night, I mean," he smirked at her. Her eyes flashed back to him, snapping. She tossed her head, her jaw clenching,

"I'm in college, thank you. I have more important things to take care of then worry about getting some dumb ass job at Starbucks. This pays an ass load more then any of those jobs can. Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for what it is that you want."

"Then shouldn't you be working now?"

"I'm on break," she answered, rather icily.

"And yet you still came over to ask if I wanted a drink? Either you're very kind or very thorough," he answered. She only glared in response. He smiled and gestured to the chair next to him, "Why don't you have a seat then, if you're on your break?"

She hesitated for a moment. After a short pause, she took the seat, relaxing into it before she was even fully situated. He studied her for a moment then held out one of his large, pale hands,

"I'm Edward. Edward Cullen."

"Bella. Bella Swan."

He smiled and shook her tiny hand. He couldn't resist. He brought the sweaty hand up to his own and pressed a brief kiss to the back of her hand. He ignored the salty taste as he wet his lips a moment later. Her already flushed cheeks turned a darker shade of red. She looked away from him, gazing anywhere but at the gorgeous man before her.

"When do you get off?" he asked politely.

"In about an hour."

"For another class, I assume?"

"No."

He nodded and looked out at the dancing bodies. He stood up abruptly and held his hand out to her. She gave him a surprised look. He smiled and took her hand on his own. He began to pull her towards the grating bodies. She gave a short gasp and pulled back against him,

"I don't dance."

"You will tonight."

"No, I don't think I will."

"And why is that?"

"I just don't."

He gave her a soft smile. He reached out with his free hand and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. She gave grimaced. He only laughed softly and pulled her against him. He placed his mouth next to her ear and breathed,

"Just one dance?"

He could hear her swallow. There was a short pause and then she allowed him to pull her out onto the dance floor.

It didn't take them long. He soon had her flush up against his own body in the middle of the throng of people. He wasn't so out of place anymore. She had her hand wrapped around his loosened tie, bringing his face down closer to his. They were both sweating as they ground against each other in the middle of the pulsing crowd. He couldn't help himself. He had long since let his instinct take over. He had been waiting for months to get a chance to dance with her, even if it wasn't the way that he wanted to. He dropped his head down to her level, pulled her closer, and attached his lips to the jumping pulse point in her neck. She moaned breathily in his ear and tipped her head back on her neck, unaware of what she was even doing anymore. He nipped gently and brought his mouth up to hers, intruding her mouth with his tongue without any kind of invitation.

They were lost in their own moment. They couldn't hear the music. They couldn't feel the stifling heat pressing down onto their bodies. They were simply one at this moment, grinding against each other fully clothed. There was nothing they could do. They were trapped in one another. It was a fight, now, as they tried to keep any kind of hold on their emotions. It wasn't working. They were on a steady down hill role towards the bottom. He was growling in her ear and she was moaning softly, yet the little whimpers seemed ten times louder as they rubbed against one another in the sweaty pile of people. There was nothing they could do, so lost in one another that they were. She was slowly giving in to this strange man's way. He had been waiting for her, that much was obvious from the way he touched her and the look in his eye as he whispered nonsense in her ear. She was letting herself go to him. She had been wanting this for ages. What had she been waiting for? He was perfect. He was amazing.

This couldn't be real.

"Edward," she hissed in his ear as he touched a particularly sensitive spot on her down south. He hummed against his neck, his eyes never moving away from her neck. She closed her eyes as her panting increased. She was quickly running out of breath and wasn't sure how she was going to handle things after this.

"Oh, Bella!" someone called.

Her eyes flashed open at the voice. Edward froze against her at the sudden movement. They stood in place for a moment both stuck in the same position. His arms began to loosen from around her waist. She shook her head at him frantically, reaching down and holding onto his strong forearms. If he moved, the moment would be lost and she would never have another chance at this again.

"It can wait," she whispered.

He let his arms fall as he stepped away from her. She felt a wave of rejection crash against her. He frowned down at her. He reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand. He sighed and placed a long, loving kiss against her lips. He placed his forehead on hers,

"You've got things to do. I'll see you sometime."

Then he was gone.

*XxX*

It had been weeks since she last saw Edward Cullen. She had spent all of her nights gazing for him around the bar. He was never there. He was never in his same seat by the edge of the dance floor in perfect view of the stage, the dancing crowd, the full view of the bar. He was never sitting there in his black tux gazing up at the ceiling or down at the floor. He wasn't there, period. There was no sign of him.

She was craving him. He had left her without any kind of satisfaction granted. It killed her. She felt horrible. She obviously was not enough for him. He hadn't made any kind of contact with her, in or outside the bar. That was enough to have her certain. Tanya had ruined their chances that night all those weeks ago. Her heart was now in broken pieces because of the blonde whore.

"Hey! Bella!"

"What the fuck do you want, Mike?" she snapped, turning around.

It was closing and she was ready to get home. Mike came up to her with an envelope in his hands. He rolled his blue eyes at her as he threw it across the counter. It slid on the washed off top and hit her elbow. She looked down at it then back up at him,

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"Just open the damn thing."

"What is it?"

"How the fuck would I know?"

She flipped him the bird and pulled the lip to the envelope up. She gasped when a letter in beautiful writing fell out with a check. She cleared her throat as the tears threatened to over flow at the sight of the signature. Written on the note was an address to a hotel downtown and Edward's signature. Paper clipped to the check was the brief explanation of: "This will make it to where I can make you sweat every night in a different way." With her heart in her throat, she dashed out of the bar with Mike yelling after her,

"Where the fuck are you going?"

She didn't answer as she hurried down the sidewalk, envelope at her chest, smile on her face.


End file.
